Page 81 of Scarred Redemption

“Nothing of importance. There’s a smaller room that could have been used for a laboratory. No real volume.”

“Party favors. Nose candy. Just enough to be a federal crime, but if I had to guess, I’d say nothing of any real value.”

“Classic for a brokerage firm.” Sergei grinned.

Specialized brokerage firms often went into a small town setting up ‘shop’ and in this case illegal drugs while establishing a legitimate business. That allowed them time to develop and nurture as many corrupt contacts as legitimate ones. Then once the systems were in place, both smaller businesses were eliminated.

With Isabel escaping, we’d likely saved the lives of dozens of locals.

Brokerage firms worked with no single organization. There was zero loyalty except to their bottom line and in some minds, they were true savages. Whether there was a call for drugs, weapons, diamonds, or fucking Italian handbags, they would provide them for a hefty price.

“Yes, and deadly. Then bring in the manager. I think it’s time to have a long conversation with him.” I pulled out my weapon, which of course he noticed, but remained quiet as he headed toward the door. His hesitation brought a chuckle. “What is it, Sergei? Go ahead and say whatever is on your mind.”

“I just wanted to remind you that these people have almost nothing in their lives.”

“You mean I have everything?”

He tipped his head, nodding. “Yes.”

“Perhaps you’re right. I have everything a man could ask for. Except for one thing. True freedom.”

Of all people, he understood what I meant. This time as he acknowledged my comment, he did so with more reverence. “I’ll be right back.”

I sat down behind the desk and placed my weapon on the surface before taking the picture into my hand. What the fuck had occurred between the two that had caused decades of planning for revenge?

The man who was brought in had already had the fear of God driven into his psyche. He was actively sweating, the stench assaulting my senses even before he walked in.

He was nervous, his wrists zip-tied and he stumbled as one of the soldiers dragged him in with Sergei behind.

The man’s eyes opened wide and as anticipated, his gaze fell to the Sig Sauer.

I drummed my fingers on the desk while allowing his fear to continue. “What’s your name?”

“Jerry,” he barely managed.

“Jerry what?”

“Jerry Knickerbacker.” His mouth twisted from fear.

“Untie him,” I commanded. “And get him some water.”

The order was followed without hesitation, the soldier leaving the room to find the requested libation. I allowed Jerry a couple of minutes to adjust to his… freedom.

“Tell me about the operation, Jerry.”

He seemed surprised. “We are a novelty printer. You know. Concert tee shirts, sports. All top quality. We have a couple amazing graphic artists on staff. We just picked up a couple big contracts with some universities. It was going to be our meal ticket for growth.”

The man was proud of what they’d accomplished.

I continued drumming my fingers.

“We’re pretty big for this town. I mean there’s very little business here. People are suffering and this is a good place to work. Good pay. Decent benefits. We’ve had hope, you know?”

Hope.

Sergei was studying my reaction. “Tell me about the other business.”

Jerry wasn’t a fool. He knew what I was talking about.